1683.
A little more than one month after Lord William Russell’s execution, Dr. John Owen, whose illness we just now mentioned, entered his rest. He closed his days in the little village of Ealing, where he possessed an estate. In his seclusion he wrote The Glory of Christ. Transported by his theme he poured forth reflections like “a sea of glass mingled with fire,” and in conversation with his friends devoutly expressed his hopes and desires. “I am going,” he said, “to Him, whom my soul has loved; or rather who has loved me with an everlasting love, which is the whole ground of all my consolation. I am leaving the ship of the Church in a storm, but while the Great Pilot is in it the loss of a poor under-rower will be inconsiderable. Live and pray, and hope and wait patiently, and do not despond: the promise stands invincible that He will never leave us nor forsake us.” The first sheet of his last book had passed through the press, under the superintendence of Mr. Payne, an eminent Dissenting minister at Saffron Walden; and as he informed Owen of the circumstance the latter exclaimed “I am glad to hear it; but, O! brother Payne, the long-wished-for day is come at last, in which I shall see that glory in another manner than I have ever done, or was capable of doing in this world.”[112] As the dying man inherited a strong constitution, he had much to endure when the last struggle came, and the attendants upon his dying bed were deeply affected, both by the intensity of his pains and the brightness of his peace. In silence, with uplifted eyes and hands, this eminent man left the world; and—which is a remarkable coincidence—he did so on St. Bartholomew’s Day.
PERSECUTION.
Throughout the last three or four years of the reign of Charles II. the persecutions carried on against the Nonconformists increased in violence; and the cause is to be found, not only in the religious character of the victims, but in the political course which they felt it their duty to pursue. Indeed the latter in some cases mainly excited the party in power. Nonconformists generally had supported members of the Opposition, at the last three elections. They were known to be advocates of constitutional liberty against the despotic designs of men in high places. “Which alone,” observed John Howe—and his testimony is most trustworthy—“and not our mere dissent from the Church of England in matters of religion, wherein Charles II. was sufficiently known to be a Prince of great indifferency, drew upon us, soon after the dissolution of the last of those Parliaments, that dreadful storm of persecution that destroyed not a small number of lives in gaols, and ruined multitudes of families.”[113]
The Presbyterians, who had often received promises of comprehension, were persecuted in common with the rest of the Nonconformists. If ever a man lived in the world inoffensively, as well as usefully, it was Oliver Heywood; yet he did not escape imprisonment. His case exposes the wicked intolerance of the rulers far beyond that of some others, where partial ignorance of the circumstances might leave room for the idea, that a measure of imprudence provoked opposition. No provocation, we are sure, could have been given to the authorities of the country by this eminently amiable and holy person.
1684.
The case of Thomas Rosewell, a Presbyterian minister, in Rotherhithe, differs from that of Heywood; but his treatment was not less unjust. Charged with uttering treason in his discourses, the jury, after an address from Judge Jeffreys, who presided at the trial, brought him in guilty. When the prisoner moved for an arrest of judgment, the King, being informed of the circumstances, felt so convinced of the infamous character of the witnesses, and of the loyalty of Rosewell, that he pardoned him at once.[114]
PERSECUTION.
From the evidence elicited during Rosewell’s trial we are enabled to form a distinct picture of one of the Nonconformist places of worship in those days, and of several interesting circumstances connected with the services. The place in which he preached was situated in Salisbury Street, Rotherhithe, near the preacher’s dwelling, and consisted of a tenement or tenements, so altered as to adapt the building for accommodating a large number of people. “The rooms were but of a low height.” “There was a low parlour, and a little room up six steps;” and where the preacher stood “was a large room and a garret.” He stood “in the door-case of that room, that the sound might go up and down.” The chamber was hung with sad-coloured paper, and a sad-coloured bed was in the room. Upon the left hand of the speaker “was a chest of sweet wood, and a little cabinet upon it; and a glass over that; and upon the right hand, on the side of the chimney, was a closet.” Three or four hundred people commonly attended—some “people of quality;” and a “store of watermen and seamen” from Deptford, Rotherhithe, and thereabouts. There were shutters in the windows, and the sun came in, and Rosewell was afraid lest the people that went by should hear him. Upon the occasion in question, at first there was not light enough let into the apartment, and he desired that one part of the shutters should be opened; then he requested that half might be shut again, for fear he should be overheard. The congregation met at seven in the morning, and did not break up until a little after two in the afternoon,—a pause taking place in the middle, when the preacher went in to dinner, and “left us there,” says the witness; “and abundance in the congregation ate sweetmeats, or biscuits, or such things.” A man, who was a brazier, acted as door-keeper, and was angry at a woman’s “coming with pattens, for they made an impression on the ground, and gave notice to others that there was company there.” She found out the place only “by dogging of people as they went along;” and by inquiries made of certain persons “set commonly at a place called Cherry Garden Stairs.”[115]
1684.